Yvette Bova: A Guilty Pleasure

She’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but she’s definitely mine.

She isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Heck, she might even convert you to drink coffee instead.

It wouldn’t be fair to call her “polarizing,” mostly because female muscle fans tend to be pretty open minded about the muscular ladies we love – which isn’t to say that we don’t have our personal favorites. But she definitely has her fans…and people who aren’t her fans.

Yvette Bova is a one-of-a-kind. What one person loves about her someone else may find repulsive. And this isn’t a case of “either you get her or you don’t.” Instead, this is a case of either Yvette appeals to you or she doesn’t. She’s larger than life – both physically and metaphorically. She refuses to apologize for who she is and embraces her uniqueness.

Perhaps that’s the best way to describe Miss Bova: Unique.

Even within the relatively small world of female bodybuilders, Yvette stands out. She isn’t the most accomplished or famous FBB around, but you know her when you see her. She’s a self-made entrepreneur (and not in an annoying Silicon Valley kind of way) who understands what’s appealing about her and does whatever she can to benefit from it. There’s a lot to admire about that approach to life.

Yvette Bova was born on April 6, 1962 in Junction City, Kansas. She grew up in Denver, served in the U.S. Air Force for more than 13 years, and currently resides in Las Vegas. After leaving the armed forces, Yvette competed in several bodybuilding competitions from 1996 to 2006 as both a Middleweight and Light-Heavyweight competitor. Her accomplishments on the stage are modest, but it’s not in the sport itself where Yvette made her name.

It was in the world of adult entertainment.

Starting in 2002, Yvette says she was approached by a porn producer at a gym in Los Angeles – which is probably the most L.A. thing to ever have happened in the history of L.A. – and asked to participate in a porn scene. After doing some “soul searching” for several days, she agreed to his request and did the scene. Chances are there was nothing memorable about this particular scene, but it did spark inside Yvette’s mind the idea that she can make money off of her unique physique.

She’s a strong, confident, sexually liberated black woman who decided to take charge of her life. This definitely counts for something! But she didn’t become this way by waving trendy slogans around or using the right hashtags. She did this by taking action, refusing to bow down to societal pressure, and overcoming any obstacles that came her way. That’s real strength.

Yvette’s original website flamed out because the person she was working with was being difficult (pro tip: never allow your company’s website to be controlled by anyone who isn’t you). Learning from this unfortunate experience, Yvette launched a brand new website and multimedia business known as Club Yvette. Her video production company is YB Entertained Productions, a company she owns and operates. Today, Yvette is a self-made businesswoman who spends her time and energy celebrating the sexy side of female bodybuilders. She loves what she’s doing and doesn’t appear to be slowing down anytime soon. Her videos are mostly about her, but she’s perfectly fine featuring other muscular ladies as well.

Miss Bova may be unique, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have peers.

At first glance, it’s easy to make a direct comparison between Yvette Bova and Kathy Connors, the Devilishly Sexy Muscle Siren. It makes perfect sense. There are a lot of similarities between the two:

  • Both women are not what you would call “traditionally beautiful.” Yet, they’ve transformed themselves into Unbelievably Sexy Muscle Goddesses through hard work, dedication, and sheer willpower.
  • Both women have their detractors, but none of that matters because they’ve come to embrace who they are and don’t pretend to be someone they’re not.
  • Both women are open about their sexualities and happily exploit it for financial gain.
  • Both women are perfectly cognizant of the fetishistic side of female muscle fandom and do not hesitate to capitalize off it.
  • Both women understand their niche audiences and do whatever they can to please them.
  • And finally, both women refuse to apologize for who they are, what they do, and why they do it. They’re confident, bold, empowered, and strategically placed for success.

Yvette – and Kathy as well – has carved out a nice little space for herself on the Internet. Yvette has assets that many people in this world find appealing: Big muscles, comically large breasts, an uncompromisingly sexy attitude, and a willingness to showcase her body and sexuality for leering eyes. There aren’t a whole lot of things she isn’t willing to do for the camera. She’ll participate in a “gang bang” with multiple guys. She’ll do scenes with women. She’ll masturbate. She’ll do BDSM scenes. She’ll have sex with a diverse group of men: old men, young men, skinny men, muscular men, ugly men, handsome men, white men, black men, men who are well endowed, men who aren’t well endowed, and so on. She loves having sex, in case you haven’t noticed! But more than that, she enjoys delivering what her fans crave.

This is part of her genius. If you love Yvette, you can watch her videos and easily imagine yourself in them as well. She has sex with good looking studs, but also gets freaky in the sheets with “average Joes” too. That works to her benefit. As viewers, we can vicariously place ourselves into the video because we see that she loves getting it on with many different types of men: both men who look like us and men who don’t look like us. Because of this, we can seamlessly fantasize about being with her because her “standards” aren’t so high that we aren’t able to meet them.

For example, in one video Yvette will have sex with a guy with a 8-inch long penis and enjoy every minute of it. However, before we start to feel too insecure about ourselves, in the next video she has sex with a more normally endowed guy and still seems to enjoy it. Yes, it’s all an act for the camera, but for the sake of vicarious entertainment it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that we love Yvette because she’s a pure Sex Kitten. She loves sex and doesn’t really care who she has it with. Just as long as a dick is inside her, she’s as happy as can be.

This is a complete contrast from Denise Masino. As noted in an earlier blog article, Denise rarely has sex with men in her videos (and if one exists, I’m yet to find it). This tactic also works to her advantage because the lack of a screen partner makes it easier for us to imagine us being her partner. That’s why people get upset when their celebrity crush gets married or announces they have a boyfriend/girlfriend. The fantasy of being with them is ruined. We understand that we have no chance in Hell of actually being with them, but that’s not why we’re upset. We’re disappointed because the fun has been drained out of the fantasy. The image of them kissing and cuddling an actual human being destroys the superfluous façade we’ve cultivated in our minds.

However, Yvette takes the complete opposite approach of Denise, yet they both achieve the same result. Denise doesn’t have sex with any men. Yvette has sex with every kind of man. Either way, we are still able to imagine ourselves getting it on with both of them. In Denise’s case, we can mentally situate ourselves as her missing partner. In Yvette’s case, we feel empowered knowing that no matter who we are, she will embrace us with open arms. In other words, if Yvette is willing to have sex with a fat, old, balding man with a normal-sized penis…so can I!

The major difference between Yvette and Denise is that Yvette is less interested in being sexy and more interested in, well, having sex. Yvette loves having sex. A lot. More than we can comprehend. Unlike Denise, Amber DeLuca, Brandi Mae Akers, Angela Salvagno, or Emery Miller, Miss Bova doesn’t care as much about building her brand as a Powerful Muscle Goddess. Instead, she wants to be known as a Sex Goddess Who Happens to Have Big Muscles. She’s more interested in showing off her skills in copulating than she is in turning up the heat around her. She doesn’t waste time with foreplay, preening, flirting, or building tension. She’d rather get the party started immediately and ignore all the pretense.

This approach doesn’t appeal to everyone, but it doesn’t have to. She embraces the “slutty” label as part of her brand. She loves pleasure, experiencing pleasure, giving pleasure, and having a good time. She loves the joys her flesh – and the flesh of her partners – can bring her. And for viewers who agree wholeheartedly, Yvette is the gift that keeps on giving.

Yvette loves to smile. She loves to laugh. She loves to experience orgasms. She loves to bring her partners to orgasm. She’s tireless in her pursuit of pleasurable experiences. She’s a pure hedonist. She loves to have fun.

She isn’t scary, intimidating, or mysterious. Nothing about her is a mystery. She’s transparent about what she enjoys and what motivates her when she wakes up every morning. Amber DeLuca, on the other hand, is widely recognized as a powerful muscle mistress who will dominate you without mercy. Yvette doesn’t want to do that. She’d rather be a fun-loving gal who will bend over and take it from you with more enthusiasm than you’d think is possible.

What’s jarring is that Yvette doesn’t always “act” like a typical female bodybuilder. In her videos, she’s often in a submissive role in relation to her screen partners. Whether she’s on her knees giving blow jobs to a group of guys or getting pounded from behind by a handsome muscle stud while moaning in pleasure/pain, Yvette doesn’t portray herself as a Dominant Muscle Siren nearly as often as one would expect. Or, she’s seen as an equal to her partner – who isn’t always muscular like she is. Regardless, despite her considerable muscle mass Yvette isn’t afraid to play the role of the submissive one. She isn’t always in control. She allows her partners to control what happens in the bedroom. And this is quite unusual for anyone who watches a lot of female muscle videos (we can all raise our hands on that one).

Despite her status as a strong muscular liberated black woman, she still willingly plays the role of the subservient partner who passively goes along with whatever happens to her. It’s very strange to witness. Is this a strategic choice or an odd coincidence that shouldn’t be thought about too deeply?

I’m willing to bet this provides valuable insight into her worldview. She isn’t concerned with power dynamics or optics. She’s willing to allow an average-looking white man to fuck her on camera and not care about how this looks from a “woke” social justice perspective. She isn’t a postmodern feminist activist who is using the medium of pornography to “right historical wrongs” or “take back the power.” She’s instead a woman who loves to have sex and experience sex in a variety of ways. From her perspective, fun is fun. Fun shouldn’t be limited by subjective elements like appearances, politics, power dynamics, race, or social status. If she’s on top, great. If she’s on the bottom, that’s also great. No matter what, she’s enjoying every minute of it.

If what happens on screen appears to be humiliating to her, she doesn’t care about it. She’s a physically and emotionally strong woman who doesn’t give a single fuck about what society thinks. She can play the role of the submissive because she chooses to. Her videos may be politically incorrect from a feminist perspective, but she’s not here to change the world. She’s here to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh while she still has breath and entertain her beloved fans.

This is why Yvette has a following. The niche she’s found for herself is simple: Politically incorrect hedonism. I don’t know what her political/social beliefs are, but it doesn’t matter. She’s empowering herself in ways that not everyone will approve of. Many will shake their heads in disgust at the choices she makes. Yet, she pushes on, ignores the noise, and continues to live life the way she wants to. Isn’t that the very definition of “liberation?”

For that, Yvette Bova is a guilty pleasure. When you watch her videos, you cannot help but feel conflicted. She’s a female bodybuilder who doesn’t always act like a typical female bodybuilder. She does scenes that don’t always fit our expectations of what a strong muscular woman should be doing. Rian Johnson would be proud of how blatantly she seeks to subvert our expectations. Yvette is perfectly fine having “humiliating” things done to her like having semen smeared on her face or enduring the pain of a large dick penetrating her. She will bend over and let her partner(s) take control instead of the other way around. It perplexes us why she’d do this.

Yet, we must remind ourselves that Yvette has 100% creative control over the content she presents to the public. She owns the production company that produces her videos. She isn’t at the mercy of a misogynistic film producer or a tyrannical studio system. She does what she does because she wants it to be that way. On purpose.

We desperately want her to be a strong independent black woman who takes control of the men around her and reclaims the power that has been denied her ancestors (however you define that). Yet, she doesn’t always do that. She will allow a group of nameless and faceless white men have their way with her and won’t think twice about posting it on her website. The socio-political ramifications be damned. We want her to control the situation, not be handcuffed by it. But for whatever incomprehensible reason Yvette doesn’t always do what we want her to do.

So we enjoy her…and cringe while doing it. We get turned on by her…while reminding ourselves that it’s okay to be turned on by her. We tell ourselves that she’s a powerful woman in control of her environment…even if it doesn’t appear so on the surface.

Naturally, Yvette is unique in other ways. She’s larger than life. She’s a comic book character conceived from the dark recesses of a female muscle fetishist’s imagination. Unlike Nataliya Kuznetsova, Yvette’s muscle mass is impressive but not eye-popping. What is remarkable about her appearance are her enormous breast implants that seem too large to be real. Does she get back pain from carrying around that much weight on her chest?

If you’re a “boob guy,” Yvette is your lady. She obviously has no qualms about going further than most women are willing to go. Everything about her is full throttle. Pedal to the metal. An 11 out of 10. Amped up. Excessive. Bold. Subversive. Provocative. She doesn’t hold back. She isn’t afraid to “go there” and put herself in situations many of us would find uncomfortable.

She’s a porn star who isn’t ashamed of her body, her sexuality, her accomplishments, her desires, her preferences, and her art. Yes, it’s a bit strange to label smutty porn as “art,” but it is nevertheless. It’s not artfully produced, but it does make a bold statement. Her videos say “this is who I am and if you don’t like it you can leave and go somewhere else.”

Her videos also say “however, if you do like it then you are welcomed to stay and enjoy the ride!”

Her appearance can be grotesque, even to the most compassionate female muscle fan. But that’s part of her charm. She knows many people will stumble upon her videos and leave disparaging comments. She knows ignorant trolls will say she “looks like a man” or “women shouldn’t look like that” or “nobody wants to see that!” She ignores that and soldiers on anyway. She understands not everyone will embrace her, but the small number of people who do are in for a treat.

Yvette doesn’t try to be classy. She doesn’t seek your approval. Her brand is trashy and that’s the way she likes it. She produces smut that titillates our senses, not high art that stimulates our brains. She’s that b-level horror movie you giddily snuck into as a teenager. You promised your parents you’re seeing The Poseidon Adventure when you’re actually going to watch Pink Flamingos. She’s a human exploitation film, a delight on screen that you know you shouldn’t enjoy but do anyway. She’s pure smut. You feel dirty after watching her in action. And we love her for it.

Enjoying Yvette’s exploits is like being entertained by a badly dubbed 1970s Hong Kong action movie or laughing at an offensive comedian’s bad jokes. You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s bad for you. You know it’s not socially acceptable. You know there are a million rational reasons why you should walk away and go to your local church to confess your sins. But you don’t. You sit there and smile at what you see unfold before you.

Heck, even the most hardcore female muscle fan may feel apprehensive about admitting that they like Yvette. You may say to yourself “I respect her, but she ain’t my style” while proceeding to jerk off while thinking about plowing your face into her enormous pillows. You may feel ashamed afterward and immediately delete your browsing history, but when the time comes around again you’ll happily repeat the shenanigans.

That’s the very definition of a guilty pleasure!

Yvette Bova isn’t my favorite FBB or even in my top 10. But I have a lot of respect for her. Seriously. She’s a smart businesswoman who has taken control of her destiny. She’s intelligently carved out a small group of fans and has given them exactly what they want repeatedly throughout the years. Like Denise Masino and Amber DeLuca, Yvette understands why certain guys love female bodybuilders and produces content that satisfies their fetishes. Yvette wasn’t born with the same natural beauty Cindy Landolt possesses and that’s perfectly okay. She doesn’t need to be considered conventionally beautiful. She can use her monstrousness to her advantage. She’s a truly Beautiful Monster who creeps us out and devilishly arouses us at the same time.

She isn’t perfect in every way, but she’s perfectly fine with who she is.

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Oh, Cindy

Cindy 1

Sometimes, perfection is attainable.

It doesn’t happen often. But when it does, you notice. Big time. You don’t need to be an art connoisseur to know that Michelangelo’s painting on ceiling of the Sistine Chapel is a once-in-a-millennium masterpiece. You don’t need to be an expert in music theory to agree that Beethoven’s 9th symphony is one of the greatest compositional achievements of all time. You don’t need to be an erudite dramaturg to understand that William Shakespeare’s Hamlet deserves its uniquely special place in theatre history.

There are many other examples of masterpieces in the world of art, literature, music, architecture, film, and photography. But there is one human being in particular who has achieved something that sounds rather strange when you say it out loud. And many of you should agree with me on this.

This person has achieved Human Perfection.

She’s perfect in every way. Her body, her looks, her intelligence, her personality, her accomplishments, everything and anything. She’s the perfect “bridge” female bodybuilder who pleases both the hardcore Female Muscle Fans and the non-Female Muscle Fans. She may even be able to convert a few cynical Female Muscle Haters. She’s curvy, strong, feminine, classically beautiful, independent, compassionate, relatable, charismatic, unforgettable, and instantly alluring. Once you are introduced to her, you cannot go back. She’s forever burned into your memory.

You begin to wonder what your existence was like before you discovered her: How on Earth was I able to survive without knowing she was out there? Did I really grow up thinking Megan Fox was the pinnacle of female beauty? Did I truly understand what “beauty” really was before knowing this woman had existed? Why did I spend so much of my time jerking off to Katy Perry when someone infinitely more gorgeous was just a simple Google search away?

The answers to these questions are simple: You hadn’t discovered her yet. And once you did, your paradigm shifts so drastically it makes Pangaea’s supercontinental break-up seem trivial enough to belong in a Taylor Swift album.

Who is this Mystery Woman I am cryptically referring to?

Cindy Landolt, of course!

Oh, Cindy.

Cindy, Cindy, Cindy.

You truly are a Female Muscle Fan’s dream come true. You are the physical embodiment of human perfection. When we look up “beautiful” in the dictionary, we’ll see a picture of you. That’s who you are. Beautiful in every sense of the word…and then some.

Cindy Landolt was born on January 11, 1985 in Wetzikon, Switzerland. The Swiss Muscle Goddess has always lived an active life, enjoying skiing, hiking, and mountain biking as a little girl (aren’t these typical activities of any self-respecting Swiss citizen?). She currently lives in Zurich but travels a lot, essentially making the entire world her home. Unlike many of the women we love, Cindy has never been a competitive bodybuilder. She finds such rabid competition distasteful and would rather spend her creative energy lifting up others instead of trying to defeat people.

Good for her!

At age 16 she stopped training to be a gymnast because of her considerable height. Standing at 5’10”, she’s a striking woman who is far from being a dainty ingénue. She’s a Super Woman who appropriately personifies the “Goddess” label. As a young adult Cindy embraced resistance training. Then she enrolled in the Swiss Academy of Fitness and Sports to become a qualified personal trainer and fitness instructor, learning the ropes of becoming a certified nutrition, rehabilitation, strength training, weight loss, and sporting coach. In 2009 she founded her own personal training company in Zurich. Her clients are diverse in their goals, but her approach remains the same: she prioritizes growth and progress over an unhealthy hyper-focus on end results.

Cindy 2

She’s also been on the cutting edge of virtual training. People all over the world – and that is not an exaggeration – can sign up for 1:1 online training and nutrition consultations. How she finds the time to manage all her business obligations is beyond me. I’m guessing she has to be selective about who her clients are. But nevertheless, she should be commended for being so tech-savvy, forward-thinking, and proactive in knowing where the fitness industry is going and how to exploit the voids in the market.

Cindy is a flawlessly beautiful woman. She is perfect. Ed Sheeran, eat your heart out. And best yet, as I mentioned earlier she has the potential for major cross appeal of which very few of her peers can boast.

She has plenty of muscle to appease the committed fans of female bodybuilders. She is also “safe” in that she’s conventionally beautiful, curvy, and unambiguously feminine. It’s a shame that traditional femininity is somehow a necessity for obtaining mainstream appeal, but it is what it is. But as it stands today, Cindy is not actually a mainstream celebrity. She’s well-known within female muscle fandom circles and the fitness industry, but don’t expect Miss Landolt to appear on the cover of Vogue anytime soon.

Her physique defines the word “statuesque.” She looks like she was chiseled out of marble, her flesh carved out of an artist’s erotically-charged imagination. She seems too good to be true. Too beautiful to be real. Too perfect to be comprehended. But alas, she is a real human being. She does exist. In our world. She didn’t fall from Heaven. She was born of fellow human beings. She is a woman, not a Goddess. A lady, not an angel. A mortal, not a deity.

But in our feverish imaginations, she is in fact a Goddess. She defies explanation. We are addicted to her and we cannot get enough. We need our daily Cindy fix, like a junkie furiously looking for their shady supplier. Unlike “normal” beautiful women, Cindy casts a spell on us that’s difficult to articulate into words. But I’ll try.

Let’s compare Cindy Landolt to Pamela Anderson. If you grew up in the 1990s, you knew who Pamela Anderson was. If you were a pubescent boy who spent his formulative years during the height of Miss Anderson’s fame, you definitely were aware of who she was. Is Pamela Anderson a flawless woman? Well, yes and no. She’s as physically attractive as any mainstream celebrity who has ever walked this Earth. No doubt about that. She was an international superstar for a damn good reason.

However, Pamela felt very two-dimensional. She was the perfect “Fantasy Woman,” a teenage boy’s ideal wet dream. She tapped into the naughty side of our psyches, providing us the perfect avenue for exploring our newfound sexualities. The scandals she faced, the high profile failed marriages, the “leaked” sex tape; all of it helped build her up as once-in-a-generation sex kitten who defined the decade and the childhoods of millennial men everywhere. The same could be said for Carmen Electra, Cindy Margolis (remember her?), or Jennifer Lopez.

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Cindy, on the other hand, is more three-dimensional. She isn’t just the perfect “jack off” material. No, that’s not her at all. She’s classy. She’s mature. She’s mannered. She has standards. She values her reputation. She isn’t reckless. She’s a forward-thinker. She isn’t obsessed with being popular or going “viral.” Rather, she’s carved out a niche for herself in an industry where entrepreneurship is the name of the game. You don’t get to “break into” the fitness industry like you do Hollywood. You make your own name for yourself. It’s all on you.

“Classy” is the best way to describe Cindy. She’s never crude or rude. She’s sexy, but not dirty. There are layers to her personality. She’s beautiful on the outside, but equally beautiful on the inside. The genuinely wants to help people, an altruistic spirit that is in short supply in show business. She isn’t a “sex symbol.” She isn’t any kind of symbol. She is who she is. What we see is what we get. She isn’t trying to put on a façade for the masses. She’s a businesswoman. An athlete. A coach. An expert. A model. She’s someone we aspire to become, whether we’re male or female.

This level of classiness can sometimes annoy her fans. Cindy never does full nudity in her photoshoots. You’ll never – at least not yet – see her nipples or genitals on full display. Yes, Instagram and other social media channels prohibit that sort of thing. But she doesn’t go there even on platforms (such as her personal website) in which anything is fair game. She chooses to be sexy in an elegant manner. She intentionally doesn’t give you everything you want.

The reason she’s shied away from doing fully nudity is unknown. I’m going to guess that she doesn’t want her brand to be associated with pornography. She wants to embrace her visual beauty, but not in an X-rated kind of way. She’s more PG-13. Sensual, yes. Graphic, no.

Also, in 2013 she did something groundbreaking that split her fanbase in half. She got breast implants. Before, Cindy was all natural and allowed her breasts to shrink as a result of gaining muscle. But in the spring/summer of that year, she did the unthinkable and “enhanced” herself. Unlike Yvette Bova her new endowments aren’t comically large. They’re certainly big, but not distracting. Well, maybe a little distracting. I suppose I mean they aren’t so big they bother you. It’s all semantics.

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Anyway, her boob job five years ago confirmed that she’s not shy about showing off her sexual attractiveness. Whether she did it for personal or business reasons, Cindy made the decision to increase her sex appeal. Now random haters can’t really claim that she isn’t completely feminine. She’s damn muscular…and curvy in all the right places.

In addition to not doing nudity, she doesn’t do any kind of hardcore porn whatsoever. Denise Masino, Angela Salvagno, Amber DeLuca, Brandi Mae Akers, and countless others are perfectly willing to show off every square inch of their bodies. Every. Square. Inch. They don’t leave anything to the imagination. Denise is so open about showcasing her genitalia that a gynecologist can probably give her a half-decent examination just by watching one of her videos. That is, assuming this doctor can concentrate properly while watching said video.

Unlike those ladies, Cindy keeps it fairly clean. Of course, not G-rated or PG-rated by any stretch of the imagination. She’ll show off her naked butt, back, and almost everything else. Just not her full breasts and genitals. She’ll pose in a sexy bikini or sultry lingerie if she feels inclined to. Just not in her birthday suit. If she is nude, she’ll artfully cover up certain areas in order to maintain her self-imposed limitations. Will her fans ever get to “see it all?” Eh, probably not. But I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing.

Oh, and Cindy never has sex on camera. But that’s sort of a given. It deserves to be mentioned.

In many ways, Cindy’s appeal is based on how much we love to fantasize about her. We know we have 0% chance of getting to be with her. So all we can do is imagine what she’d be like as a lover. How is she in bed? How would she act in the bedroom? Would she be on top or bottom? Would she take control or let her partner carry the reins? What does her, uh, clit look like? Is it enormous like Denise’s? Or more “normal” in size? How large is her labia? How pink is her vagina?

These are, admittedly so, creepy questions. Very creepy. But can any of you say with any integrity at all that these thoughts haven’t crossed your mind?

Didn’t think so.

The fact we don’t associate Cindy with being a smutty female bodybuilder is an intentional choice. That’s not who she is. I’m certainly not judging any FBB who does choose to do porn – but Miss Landolt prefers to keep her sex appeal modest in nature. She sure as heck isn’t shy about showing off her body – and we are all infinitely grateful for that – but she does so tastefully.

She values personal empowerment. She loves to make people feel and live better. She serves people. She genuinely wants to make the world a better place, one personal training session at a time. And if she can find time to do some modelling, so be it. That’s her way of adding more beauty to the Universe. And she succeeds at that with flying colors.

For the uninitiated, Cindy Landolt may be a revelation. A paradigm shift. An awakening. She could be the one who converts someone over to “our side.” As I mentioned before, she’s a bridge. She can live in both worlds and accomplish the nearly impossible task of pleasing both sides. It’s remarkable.

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In a weird way, Cindy Landolt is a very charitable woman. She’s beautiful and she loves sharing her beauty with the world. That’s a rather odd way of phrasing it, but it’s true: She’s charitable with her beauty. For her Instagram followers and millions of others who follow her elsewhere, we need our daily dose of Cindy. If we need something to brighten our day or help us unwind after a long day at the office, we can just scroll through Cindy’s IG feed and…that’ll do the trick. It’s like a medicine that can cure the blues.

We don’t typically view modeling as being an act of charity. We usually look at modeling as a means for corporations to sell more clothing, makeup, jewelry, perfume, and diet books. Within our free market capitalistic system, models add sex appeal to products in order to help them sell better. Yet, Cindy is a different matter. Obviously, she models because it helps promote her personal training business. And she probably finds it personally empowering. That’s all fine and dandy. But her modeling also serves as an act of almsgiving. A virtuous donation that helps make society a better place to live for all of us.

Her beauty isn’t just intoxicating. It isn’t just alluring. It isn’t just addicting. It’s a dose of fresh air. It’s medicinal. It’s therapeutic. It’s just what the doctor ordered!

Cindy Landolt’s beautiful face and body aren’t just art. They’re a fountain of joy. Her beautiful body truly adds color to the dark palette of our existence. She is light where there is darkness. She brings hope where there is despair. She creates joy where there is melancholy. She is a much-needed beacon of beauty in a world of ugliness.

Cindy is, simply put, perfection. In every imaginable way.

Sexy Summer Short Story #5 – It’s Getting Hot in Here

Hot in here - Lynn McCrossin

The late Lynn McCrossin. May she rest in peace.

“Enough chit chat. Let’s get down to business!”

Madeline stands up, positions herself right in front of Max, and shows him her double biceps pose. Max remains sitting on the bed, captivated by her flawless physique. She knows she’s got him mesmerized in every way possible and is enjoying every moment of it. Madeline has seen her fair share of guys for muscle worship sessions, but she never tires of the feeling of being adored, revered, and lusted after.

“So hard. So powerful,” Max observes in a trance-like state. “You’re even bigger than the last time I saw you. And you were ridiculously huge even then.” Cupping her bicep peak in the palm of his hand, Max feels his manhood swell with arousal.

“Thanks, sweetie. Good eye for detail,” she says. “In fact, I am a little bigger than I was last year. I’m trying to move up a category the next time I compete.”

By now Max has moved his hands down to feel her hardened abdomen. Madeline’s six-pack abs are more pronounced now since she plans to compete in Europe in seven weeks. As a professional female bodybuilder, Madeline has placed high in several prominent bodybuilding contests across the world – spanning the globe from the United States to Europe to Africa to Australia to Central America to Southeast Asia.

Unfortunately, despite her impressive accomplishments, Madeline doesn’t make enough money doing these competitions. She has a part-time job teaching yoga to little old ladies in retirement homes, but even that doesn’t come close to paying the bills. So, she has to earn money on the side through “alternative” means.

Muscle worship and fantasy wrestling appointments are those means.

And Max – and lots of men (and occasionally women) like him – are her clients.

In Max’s case, this is his third time seeing Madeline. He first saw her five years ago when he was a nervous 19-year-old kid meeting his first ever real-life female bodybuilder. Ever since he was a little boy he’s always had a strange and unexplainable fascination with muscular women. He never could figure out why. They just turned him on more than “traditionally” beautiful women. Of course, he kept this a secret. And he’s pretty sure his mom never discovered the elicit bodybuilding magazines he had hidden underneath the bed.

So when he saw on a bodybuilding forum that Madeline – a woman he’s had a crush on for several years – was travelling to his city, he couldn’t let this opportunity go. He had to pursue this chance to meet her in-person. And he did. Then he did a second time. And now, he’s seeing her for a third time.

Usually they meet at an upscale hotel in the downtown area, but not today. Due to a major comic book convention happening this weekend, Madeline had to settle for a cheaper motel located outside the main city. Oh well. Her fans will follow her to the ends of the Earth for the chance to touch her heavenly body.

Hot in here - motel

A typical motel. Nothing fancy. Just a place to sleep.

“Your calves…my God…so dense,” Max whispers. Madeline accommodates him by raising her right leg and flexing her calf. Wearing a sexy crimson red bikini, Madeline reflects on all the guys she regularly sees. Most of them are men in their 40s and 50s. Very few are in their 30s, never mind their 20s. But alas, here’s Max enjoying the company of a woman like her. Big, tall, bulky, muscular, eye-popping, pretty, and infinitely confident. There aren’t a whole lot of women like Madeline in this world.

Max has moved on to her backside, admiring her curvy butt and broad back. He lightly pats both of her butt cheeks and she wiggles her hips for him.

“You like a woman’s ass?” Madeline asks.

“I like your ass!”

Madeline smirks and bends forward, inviting Max to further explore her glutes. He is glad to oblige.

***

Meanwhile, a motel employee is putting a large batch of bed sheets into an industry-sized dryer machine. It’s just a typically boring day at the office for her.

It’s almost lunchtime – and as any normal human being can testify to, it’s easy to mentally check out when you have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and bag of Funyuns on your mind. Right now, this employee has forgotten to clean out the lint trap before putting in the new load.

Statistically speaking, it’s exceedingly rare for a piece of hot lint to catch fire and burn down a building. Rare. But not impossible.

“God, it’s hot in here. No air conditioning, no windows, no nothing,” she complains. “Fuck this. Time for lunch.”

She closes the dryer hatch, sets it to the default cycle for white linen, and walks away to the staff break room. Little did she – and every single person in this motel at this particular moment – know that a disaster of epic proportions is about to occur just a few minutes later.

***

Thirty-six minutes later, Max is sitting on the bed watching Madeline take off her bikini. He’s in awe as she exposes her breasts and genitalia to him. Her boobs are small (she’s chosen not to get implants), but her clitoris is definitely not. She’s not erect yet, but Max still cannot believe she’s that large down there.

“You’re perfect,” he begins. “An impeccable beauty.”

Madeline is accustomed to compliments and does not blink an eye.

“Thank you sweet thing. Thank you.” She approaches him and helps Max strip nude himself. First, she removes his socks. Then she pulls down his jeans after Max unbuckles his belt. Soon, both she and her client are completely naked. Madeline peers out of the corner of her eye at the bedside clock and sees she has about fifteen minutes left with him. Time to end this session on a high note.

And to give him quite a surprise!

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Max,” she says. “I really like you and you’re a great guy. Do you want to go all the way?”

Max’s eyes widen. Did he hear her right? Did she just offer what he thinks she offered him?

“Uh, yeah! I guess…are you being serious?”

Without saying a word, Madeline walks over to her luggage and takes out a box of condoms. She selects a packet, opens the foil, and returns to the bed.

“Deadly serious…”

Max silently nods his head in approval. Taking that as her cue, Madeline hops on the bed and tickles Max’s scrotum. He closes his eyes and moans. Wanting to take in every sensual moment, he lies down and allows Madeline to do whatever the hell she wants to do. Eventually, Max’s penis is completely erect, ready to enter Madeline. She dutifully rolls the latex condom onto his penis and climbs on top of him.

“Oh my…you look so sexy right now…” Max finally opens his eyes and looks at Madeline’s beautiful face. “I’ve dreamt of this moment ever since I first met you.”

Madeline slowly lowers herself onto Max’s erection. Facing him “cowgirl style,” she finally takes in his entire penis and deliberately sways back and forth. Her client groans and grabs her fists. Holding hands, Madeline rides him like a stallion until Max sniffs something unusual in the air.

“Um, do you smell that?”

Madeline stops making love to him and raises her nose. She sniffs and shakes her head.

“I have a bad sense of smell. Sorry ‘bout that,” she concedes. “However, it is getting a bit humid in here. I think I have the A/C turned on…”

She resumes making love to Max by raising and lowering her pelvis. Unfortunately, he’s distracted by the distinct odor of smoke filling the room.

“I think something’s on fire…maybe not here, but somewhere else,” he says.

“It’s getting hot in here,” she concedes. “That I can tell. That is rather strange.”

Hot in here - fire

A firefighter doing what they do best.

All of a sudden, a loud blaring noise bursts through the building. Ear-piercing and relentless, Madeline and Max immediately know what this sound signifies. It’s the fire alarm!

“Fuck! You’re right!” Madeline screams. “Something is on fire! Fuuuuuuuck!!!”

Both of them jump out of bed and run toward the door. A voice cracks across the PA system – neither Madeline nor Max knew the motel had a PA system to begin with – announcing:

“Attention guests and staff! This is not a drill. There is a fire in the building. Please leave your rooms immediately and head to the nearest exit now!”

Still naked, Madeline and Max don’t think about their nude state because their survival instincts have kicked in. They burst through the door and sprint down the hallway. A small handful of other people are doing the same. At the far side of the hallway is an emergency exit that leads to the south parking lot. A sea of desperate human beings surge through the door to escape certain doom.

White smoke fills the hallways. Nobody running saw it, but an orange glow can be seen pouring out of a door marked “Employees Only” at the opposite side of the building. The sprinkler system has activated, soaking everyone in its path.

“Run for your life!” Madeline shouts.

“Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” Max exclaims to anyone who is willing to listen.

Moments later the motel parking lot is full of a few dozen people in various states of dress. One young woman is topless. A little girl has no pants on. A middle-aged businessman is wearing only a towel, evident that he’d been taking a shower when the fire alarm started to shriek. Most of the people don’t have shoes on. The five motel employees are fully clothed of course, but that’s to be expected. Madeline and Max are the only two who are completely naked.

“My God, the whole damn building is on fire! Look!!!” a random person in the crowd yells. Sure enough, smoke is seen rising out of several windows on the west-facing side of the building. In the distance the reassuring sound of fire trucks racing to the scene can be heard by everyone present.

Now that the hysteria has died down and everyone has regained their mental bearings, everyone looks around at the crowd that has assembled in the parking lot. All eyes are on Madeline and Max.

“Mommy, look! That boy is naked!” a small boy blurts out. “Is that another boy with him? Or is that a girl…?”

Hot in here - fire truck

A firetruck.

It’s not every day you see a gorgeous nude female bodybuilder and a short nerdy nude young man standing side-by-side in plain sight. Not to mention a young man with a condom rolled on his (miraculously) still-erect penis. The frenzied life-and-death atmosphere has not dissipated his arousal, apparently. A crowd of random people have gathered near the building since the smoke can be seen for miles. Half the people are looking at the motel that’s burning to the ground…but the other half are fixated on Madeline and Max.

“Holy shit…” Max mutters under his breath. His penis has deflated considerably, with the condom hanging on the tip. “People can see us!”

Madeline, on the other hand, is enjoying the attention. She strikes a few poses, proudly showcasing her nude muscular body. A few onlookers cheer. Others have deliberately moved away to avoid participating in this “scene.”

“Don’t be embarrassed, Max! We can put on a little show before the fire department arrives!” Madeline’s side chest pose elicits a “damn girl!” reaction out of someone. One young woman looks at Max’s little penis and giggles.

The crowd disperses after four large fire trucks arrive to the parking lot. Ten minutes later everyone moves to the sidewalk as the first responders courageously do their job. Madeline impulsively picks up Max, holds him up over her head, and pauses for pictures. Several people – mostly men – take out their phones and snap a few shots of this unlikely couple. Max still feels embarrassed, but strangely…

…empowered.

A firefighter offers both of them a blanket to cover up their nude bodies. They graciously accept it. People have switched their focus away from the couple and toward the flaming building. Thankfully, the fire seems to be relatively small. It shouldn’t take too long to tame it.

Hot in here - Lindsay Mulinazzi

Can you imagine what it would be like to see Lindsay Mulinazzi dressed like this walking down a busy sidewalk?

“Still want to go all the way, darling?” Madeline whispers into Max’s ear.

“Uh, really? Now? Where can…”

Before he could finish that sentence, Madeline sweeps up Max into her strong arms and carries him to the back side of the building. She eyes a large recycling dumpster and plops him on his feet behind it. Away from prying eyes, Madeline notices the condom is still hanging off the tip of his penis.

“You still have it on. That’s cute!”

Max blushes and turns beet red. Sensing his vulnerability, Madeline kisses him and rolls the condom back on. Max feels his manhood become erect again. Then, Madeline turns around, places her hands on the wall, and bends over – exposing her moist entrance to him.

“Take me.”

Without hesitating, Max enters Madeline slowly. A soft groan escapes from her throat. Gaining confidence, he grabs her hips and moves in and out of her; leisurely at first, then more rapidly as his pleasure intensifies.

“Fuck, yeah…” Madeline moans. Max quickens his pace as his orgasm builds. Madeline bends her knees slightly to adjust to his short stature. Standing at a striking 6’ 1” barefoot, most guys are shorter than her. Especially Max. Making love doggie style can be difficult if she doesn’t lower herself to the man she’s with.

“Oh, yes!” Max growls.

He climaxes hard, sending chills throughout his whole body. Madeline doesn’t come, but she doesn’t need to. She gets enough pleasure from knowing her clients are receiving pleasure. After his spasms subside, he pulls out of her and violently turns Madeline around to face him. She’s surprised by this sudden move. He stands on his toes and kisses her. When their lips part, she kneels down and takes the condom off his deflated penis. She tosses it into the garbage dumpster and orally cleans him. After she finishes they kiss again.

Moments later, Madeline and Max walk hand-in-hand down the sidewalk in plain view of the entire city as naked as the day they were born. They cheerfully give the blanket back to a random firefighter, who is stunned at what he’s witnessing.

“What the fuck?” he exclaims.

The naked couple continues to walk away from the scene, which by now has been successfully contained. They don’t know where they’re going or if a police officer will arrest them for indecent exposure. But they don’t care. All they care about is sharing this moment together and making it last as long as they can.

We Need to Talk About Nataliya Kuznetsova

Nataliya Kuznetsova 4

This is a real human being. Seriously.

By now, you should be familiar with Nataliya Kuznetsova.

Nataliya is the kind of woman that even the most wildly imaginative female muscle fan will admit – if they’re pressed into being realistic for a hot minute – can’t ever really exist.

No woman, even with the help of all the synthetic steroids, supplements, food, weightlifting equipment, and expertise possibly available, can ever actually look like that. Whether you’ve been a bona fide female muscle fan for 40 years or 40 days, you’ve seen your fair share of muscular women. Perhaps even in-person. Yet, the rational part of your brain understands full well that no woman can ever look like her. No woman can ever have arms the size of a Mr. Olympia contestant. Or legs so thick that they resemble actual tree trunks. That’s not physically possible. It’s not scientifically possible. It’s even too absurd to draw a cartoon that looks like that.

Uh, right?

Well, you would be wrong. There is in fact one particular woman who walks on planet Earth – or is it continuously squats and bicep curls on planet Earth? – who defies your expectations of what a female bodybuilder can and cannot look like. She challenges what you previously thought was the limits of human achievement. Sure, guys who take drugs and work out like a madman with his hair on fire can become that huge. But…a woman?

No way! No how! That ain’t right!!!

Yet, it is so right. And it is possible. Her name is Nataliya Kuznetsova.

Nataliya was born on July 1, 1991 in the city of Chita, Zabaykalsky Krai in Russia. She was born just a few months before the Soviet Union officially dissolved; and although the Iron Curtain had fallen, a child had been born who would take her iron pumping quite seriously (did you see what I did there?). She has won many accolades in her life, including being the bench press and deadlift world champion. She’s also a champion armlifter, which should come as no surprise to anyone who’s ever seen her arms.

She aspired to become a professional bodybuilder at age 14 and never looked back. In addition to breaking several records, she’s dabbled in the field of coaching and personal training – which is not uncommon for many bodybuilders, both male and female. She’s maintained a strict diet since the early days of her career, which has clearly paid dividends. After graduating from the Moscow State Academy of Physical Culture in 2013, Nataliya proceeded to pursue her dream of shattering several powerlifting records.

And put her name in the record books is exactly what she did. In 2014 and 2015 she won various contests in Russia and Europe. While it doesn’t appear that she continues to compete in powerlifting, she’s since gained international notoriety for her unusual eye-popping physique that she proudly promotes on her social media channels.

Oh boy. And she’s also not shy about her usage of anabolic steroids and estrogen blockers. I mean, it’s not humanly possible to get as huge as her without drugs. We all know that. But in her case, it isn’t really about whether or not she “fairly” achieved her musculature. What really matters is that she looks exactly how she looks – and that’s the way she wants it.

Her brand is dependent upon the final result, not the process it took to get to that final result.

Nataliya Kuznetsova 1

Muscles on the beach.

Nataliya is the Ultimate Real Human Photoshop Illusion. You’d swear that she’s not actually real. She must be the product of a female muscle growth fiction artist’s imagination. Someone must’ve artificially enhanced her arms and legs. Or, someone superimposed a male bodybuilder’s arms onto her torso, like a G.I. Joe action figure’s arms being popped inside a limbless Barbie doll.

Yet, that is not the case. She is not a character in an FMG story. Nor are photos of her not genuine (to be fair, very few Instagram and magazine photos are 100% genuine) in the proper sense of the word. Her biceps are really the size of most guys’ quads. Her quads are really as thick as your girlfriend’s torso. It’s all true. It’s definitely not all natural, but if we’re only interested in aesthetics, who cares?

And that’s the crux of the argument. Whether she could ever achieve so much muscle mass naturally – the short answer is “no way, José” – is not the point. Insecure guys who constantly insist that she’s “juicing” or “roiding up” are just projecting their own inadequacies onto a complete stranger. They’re envious that they are unable to get that “swole,” so they need to add as many caveats as possible onto Nataliya’s achievements because it, uh, makes them feel better. Or something like that. I don’t know exactly.

But that’s not really where I’m getting at. Nataliya is noteworthy because she is who she is. Whether she “cheated” or did it through unnatural means isn’t what’s truly important. What’s important is that she’s a human cartoon in the flesh. She’s a female muscle fan’s dream come true, if extreme FMG artwork happens to be your thing. It’s not for me personally, but it doesn’t have to be. I can acknowledge her importance without being totally smitten with her looks.

Personally, Nataliya is a bit too much. Everything about her is superhuman, including her lips. Dang. She makes Angelina Jolie look like the before-and-after photo at a lip enhancement surgeon’s office. I tend to prefer ladies who are both large and traditionally curvy. Alina Popa is my jam. So is Isabelle Turell. And Shannon Courtney. And Theresa Ivancik. And Lindsay Mulinazzi. And many others. I have nothing against Miss Kuznetsova as a human being. I’m sure she’s cool and pretty interesting to be around. Apparently, she’s bisexual – which will make any FMG artist go hog wild when crafting erotically-charged dime novel-style fan fiction.

Perhaps this is a reflection of my limited imagination. Is Nataliya’s physique now the new Mount Everest? Are former Ms. Olympia contestants like Iris Kyle, Tina Chandler, Debi Laszewski, Anne Freitas, and Yaxeni Oriquen-Garcia merely the tip of the iceberg? Previously, we may have thought of these ladies as being at the peak of the female muscle pecking order. But maybe our standards were set too low. Maybe women like Nataliya Kuznetsova (are there any others like her? Asking for a friend) are where the proverbial bar is now set. Or should be set. It’s not enough to train for a few hours, give yourself a couple of rest days, and intersperse within your daily routine plenty of Tupperware containers full of brown rice, grilled chicken, and boiled broccoli. Perhaps the new normal should be to train for several hours a day – as if it’s practically a part-time job – and eat as much protein as you possibly can without throwing up. This doesn’t sound particularly appealing, but one must suffer for one’s art.

Nataliya Kuznetsova 2

Nataliya’s quads don’t lie.

Hm. Maybe that’s exactly the point. One must suffer for your art. In Nataliya’s case, her body is her art. Her muscles are her canvas. Dumbbells, vitamin supplements, anabolic steroids, and protein are her paintbrushes. And her Instagram feed is her museum. And we are patrons of her art. Instead of sipping champagne, we down a carton of Muscle Milk. Same thing.

All bodybuilders are artists as well as athletes. They might consider themselves athletes first and foremost, and that would be their prerogative. But whether they consciously consider it or not, they’re also artists. Michelangelo used marble. Nataliya uses her own flesh and blood. That sounds odd, but it’s true. Bodybuilders don’t try to hit a baseball into the centerfield bleachers or dunk a basketball over a 7-foot tall defender. They try to look awesome, prioritizing muscle mass, symmetry, and aesthetic perfection over all else.

Yet, I’m perfectly fine with Nataliya being the exception and not the rule. She can be an Internet sensation who makes our eyes pop out of our skulls. She can be someone who essentially provides fodder for clickbait articles on second-rate news aggregate sites. I highly doubt female muscle fans worldwide are clamoring for more women to look like her. If more do choose to look as extreme as possible, so be it. But we’re perfectly content with more “conventional-looking” female bodybuilders (as contradictory as that may sound) such as Miss Popa and Miss Ivancik. At least, they’re conventional within the context of the world of female bodybuilding.

Here’s a question: Is Nataliya Kuznetsova good or bad for female bodybuilding and fans of female bodybuilders? It’s the question sports commentators always make regarding dynasties like the Golden State Warriors, New England Patriots, the UConn women’s basketball team, Alabama football, Manchester United, or the Marvel Cinematic Universe (ha ha). Is dominance a good thing? Can the lack of parity hurt the overall product? Or does it enhance it? Is temporary dominance – because dominance rarely lasts forever – actually a good thing because it provides an incentive for others to work harder in order to catch up?

Chances are she’s not going to have much of an effect on anything. Nataliya exists in her own little universe. She’s carved out her own unique niche. She doesn’t really exist in the realm of bodybuilding because she isn’t a competitive bodybuilder (to my knowledge). She’s a mini-celebrity whose body is her selling point. Her extreme physique is why she’s famous, not because she climbed up the industry ladder or won so many accolades that we cannot help but notice her. In a way, she’s the perfect example of how the entrepreneurial female bodybuilder is most likely the archetype that will survive the longest.

Nataliya Kuznetsova 5

Ever seen someone like this at the gym? Yeah, didn’t think so.

The bodybuilding industry’s marginalization of female competitors doesn’t need to be rehashed here. The death of the Ms. Olympia is really all you need to know. Wings of Strength is doing their best to resuscitate the spirit of the Ms. O, and we wish them all the best in this endeavor. Long story short, female bodybuilders need to find alternative avenues of earning an income in order to continue doing what they love to do.

Nataliya has done exactly that.

She’s found a void and filled it perfectly. Impeccably. She busted her tail to look as hypermuscular as possible. She knew not everyone would dig her look, but that didn’t matter one iota. There are plenty of people who will. And do. She’s made sacrifices – including long-term risks to her body – to achieve her Human Photoshop figure. She was able to go “viral” because she stood out from the rest of the herd. There are plenty of muscular women out there. But few are as surreal in their musculature as her.

So because of that, she was able to break through in front of more “mainstream” eyes because of her freakish physique. Cindy Landolt or Minna Pajulahti are famous within the small community of female muscle fans, but Nataliya has been able to rise above that and attraction attention from non-female muscle fans. And chances are pretty good that for many people, Nataliya is the only muscular woman whom they care to follow on social media. She’s “famous” – in a 21st century viral Internet meme sense – for being a living and breathing statistical outlier, not because she happens to be a female bodybuilder who’s broken the mold of her predecessors and peers.

And that’s the meat and potatoes of our discussion. Miss Kuznetsova is nothing more than a freakish statistical outlier to the vast majority of Internet-savvy people out there. She won’t help the visibility of the female bodybuilding industry. She won’t hurt it either, but that’s beside the point. She’s a Human Island. A once-in-a-lifetime Black Swan Event. She’s like the people who love to follow Tiger Woods but couldn’t care less about other golfers.

There are golf fans. And there are Tiger Woods fans. And they are often not one and the same. Likewise, there are Nataliya Kuznetsova fans. And there are female muscle fans. And they are not necessarily the same thing.

Nataliya Kuznetsova 3

Can’t tell if those are her quads…or an actual tree trunk.

Some people love Eminem but don’t particularly like hip hop. Some people loved “The Dark Knight” but never read a single Batman comic book. And some people are enamored with Nataliya Kuznetsova but couldn’t identify Alina Popa in a police lineup.

Life is funny like that.

Whether you love her, hate her, or have neutral feelings about her, one thing is certain: You’re totally justified to initially think that this woman couldn’t possibly exist. This has got to be like “Simone,” that 2002 Al Pacino movie about a movie star who’s digitally animated and isn’t really real. Certainly Nataliya has got to be a digital avatar, right? A fake persona meant to punk all of us into thinking a woman could genuinely build muscle mass that male bodybuilders could only dream of? Well, the truth is that she’s real. Very real.

I have no idea how long she can maintain her physique. I’m not a nutritional scientist or biology expert, but it seems reasonable to worry about her long-term health. All that animal protein, steroids, and hormone-blocking drugs can’t be good for you. Years and years of living like that should eventually take its toll, right?

Eh. Maybe, maybe not.

For now, let’s just appreciate who she is and what she’s been able to accomplish thus far. Only time will tell as to how much of an impact she’s making on the visibility of female bodybuilders, if any at all.

What is Sexy?

Sexy - Kim Buck

Kim Buck beckoning us to hop in bed with her.

Female bodybuilders are sexy.

Soooooooooooo incredibly sexy. Steaming hot. They pulsate with sexual appeal. Every inch of their immaculate bodies is divine. Female bodybuilders produce emotions, thoughts, and gut reactions out of us that cannot be described, properly attributed, or replicated.

They are also beautiful. Immensely beautiful. Incomprehensibly beautiful.

Sexy and beautiful. Beautiful and sexy.

However, as strange as this may sound, what is beautiful is not necessarily sexy, and by that same token what is sexy is not necessarily beautiful. Hopefully this makes more sense if we dive into what these two concepts actually mean.

The questions of what is “sexy” and what is “beautiful” are two different – though interconnected – matters. Beauty is primarily concerned with aesthetic preferences. Sexy, on the other hand, has more to do with the feelings certain people, words, images, and objects elicit inside us. For example, some people get turned on by the feeling of leather or being picked up and carried. There’s nothing inherently beautiful about either of those things. Yet, they’re considered sexy by those who consider such things to be sexy.

I can look at an artist rendering of the Himalayan Mountains and say that it’s beautiful. I can also glance at a gorgeous woman stroll by on the sidewalk and think the exact same thing. But I can also stare (hopefully, inconspicuously) at a less attractive woman at the gym who’s deadlifting 250 pounds and say to myself:

“Damn. That’s sexy!”

Sidewalk Lady may check all the boxes of physical attractiveness. Every single one of them. Deadlift Lady may check some of the boxes – or very few of them – and yet, for some inexplicable reason, she makes me feel things that Sidewalk Lady doesn’t. This isn’t to insult or degrade Sidewalk Lady, but to point out that how we react to certain visual stimuli doesn’t always follow logical explanations.

Deadlift Lady’s activities spark inside me the desire to do things that are socially inappropriate. Many of us can keep our animalistic instincts in check, but staring a few seconds too long clearly isn’t one of them as far as I’m concerned. I want nothing more than to marvel at her raw strength, cheer her on, and fantasize about what other kinds of miraculous feats she can accomplish. Sidewalk Lady is someone I’ll most likely forget about 30 seconds later. Sorry, ma’am! Sidewalk Lady is a dime a dozen. Deadlift Lady, however, is a much more rare bird.

Sexy - Shannon Courtney

Deadlift Lady is sort of Shannon Courtney. Alright, it’s not “sort of” her. It’s actually Shannon Courtney.

This partially explains why so many people are perplexed that folks like you and I love female bodybuilders so much. On the surface, muscular women are, for lack of a better word, “freaky” looking. They’re not normal. They’re unconventional. They defy our preconceived notions of what a woman “should” look like. Because we typically associate large muscles as being a masculine trait, when we see big muscles on a feminine body our brains struggle to comprehend it. Our natural instinct is to dismiss it as being “against nature” or “unnatural” to the point that a disgusted reaction is a perfectly reasonable response. In other words, being revolted at the sight of a female bodybuilder isn’t bigotry; it’s simply the product of our upbringing and societal expectations.

Yet, for many of us the sight of a female bodybuilder elicits the exact opposite reaction. Instead of looking at her with terror or repulsion, we get turned on. Big time. No mistake about that. Our blood starts to boil. Sexual fantasies of all sorts immediately pop into our minds. Our breathing quickens. We suddenly have the urge to…uh, do certain things. To put it mildly.

This is because our love for female bodybuilders goes below the surface. It’s beyond what you simply see on the outside. The experience of seeing a photo of an FBB may seem jarring at first, but once you actually “get it” and understand their appeal, you become enthralled by them and cannot get enough. Yes, we do love them because we appreciate how they look (or at least, how most of them look). But it’s more than that. We find them sexy because of how they make us feel.

Female bodybuilders make us feel inspired, empowered, awestruck, dazed, imaginative, intrigued, aroused, sensual, curious, anxious, jealous, insecure, terrified, astonished, shocked, confused, provoked, delirious, uneasy, and everything in between. Please note that some of these emotions are contradictory. Some are negative. How can someone feel aroused and terrified at the same time? Is it possible to be inspired and insecure simultaneously? Do people really find it sexy to be both empowered and anxious?

The answer is simple to all these questions:

YES!

There is tremendous appeal in feeling strong contradictory emotions at the same time. This is why bondage role play is so popular. Some people get tremendously aroused being scared and aroused at the same time. In fact, being frightened heightens the sense of arousal. At least, that’s the idea. It’s totally possible to look at a picture of a large muscular woman and instantly feel inadequate, insecure, and pathetic when you think about your own lack of muscle mass. You’re a guy who lifts regularly at the gym and eats (fairly) healthy. “How the hell can a woman – who’s scientifically predisposed to being smaller in stature than men traditionally are – be bigger than me? It’s so agonizing because it makes me look bad! Compared to her, I’m fat, lazy, tiny, puny, pitiful, weak, and completely out of shape.”

“Yet, I think she’s the most beautiful woman who’s ever existed and I want to ravage her in bed all night!”

Sexy - Tina Nguyen

Who wouldn’t want to ravage Tina Nguyen all night long?

Well, then. This is something that’s a bit psychologically complicated. Is it possible that guys who love female bodybuilders are really – whether they realize it or not – projecting their own insecurities onto an object they find sexually desirable? That instead of seeing muscular women as the enemy, they treat them as an ally? That they secretly desire to be the weaker sex for once? That they get incredibly turned on by a woman who can take control? That when they feel at their most helpless, they actually feel the most powerful?

Human psychology is complex and beyond my amateurish understanding. But what I do know – and this comes from experience as well – is that these contradictory feelings are real. And not only are they real, they contribute to explaining why we find female bodybuilders so unbelievably sexy.

Our love for FBBs goes well below the surface. When I see Cindy Landolt post a photo on Instagram of her sprawling on a bed wearing sexy lingerie, it’s almost as though I can literally see powerful vibes exploding out of the computer screen. She doesn’t just look hot and beautiful. She looks powerful. At the top of her game. At her peak. She looks invincible. No one can stop her. She has her audience in the palm of her hand and she can control them however she likes. And this is the kicker: She isn’t doing this just because of the so-called “male gaze.” She does this because it makes her personally feel empowered. She chooses to flaunt her immaculate body in sexually provocative ways because it’s her way of transforming herself into a superhero. Yes, she is a human being. But her muscles allow her to transcend her humanness and become something else entirely. She becomes, well, superhuman.

Miss Landolt understands that men are visual creatures. And she just gave them more visual stimuli than they can handle. If their brains explode into a million pieces, so be it. That’s her super power. That’s why she’s world-famous (in a modest sense) while other traditionally beautiful women are not. That’s why we can scroll for hours through Instagram looking at thousands of photos of beautiful women and think to ourselves, “She’s cute.” But when we come across Cindy strutting around in a bikini showing off her perfectly sculpted figure, we then react by saying:

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyuuuuuuuuuuuummmmm guuuuuuuuuuurrrrrlllllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!”

See the difference? Subtle, it ain’t.

The question of deciphering “what is sexy” really boils down to these kinds of emotional reactions. There’s a cliché that states “sexy is an attitude.” There’s a lot of truth to that. But it’s more than that. What we find to be sexy (and by that same token, unsexy) is often a reflection of who we are. It shines a light on our own deepest fears, anxieties, insecurities, and inner demons. Perhaps this is a clever coping mechanism. No one wants to feel inadequate or weak. So instead of giving in to these failures, we turn it around. Rather than treat an FBB as a constant reminder of how “unmanly” we are, we treat them as a partner. An ally. A friend. A comrade. A compatriot. An equal.

Sexy - Cindy Landolt

Cindy Landolt is one of the most perfect female bodybuilders on planet Earth. Anyone want to argue with me about that? Yeah, didn’t think so!

We turn a loss into a victory. A weakness into a strength. A competitor into a teammate. This is our way of overcoming our fears. We conquer our insecurities not by letting them defeat us, but by embracing them as a source of inner strength. Here’s an odd anecdote that hopefully illustrates what I’m trying to convey:

One time a few years ago I met a well-known female bodybuilder for a muscle worship session. I won’t reveal her name for the sake of her privacy. She’s tall, thick, remarkably muscular, and smart. Very business savvy. She’s tough as nails and can physically dominate any man she encounters. While I’m not personally into fantasy wrestling, we did do some casual wrestling in bed just for the fun of it. She wrapped her strong legs around my torso and squeezed. I was helpless. I could not escape. She dominated me in every sense of the word. I struggled to breathe. She could have killed me if she’d wanted to. I was weak. She was the stronger sex, and it wasn’t even close.

At the end of our time together, she was kind enough to send me off on a positive note. It felt reciprocal because earlier I was giving her plenty of cunnilingus. First, she gave me oral. Then, once I was properly erect she got out a bottle of baby oil and smeared some on the palm of her hand. She then proceeded to jerk me off. I distinctly remember looking up at her and watching her perform this deed. She was on top of me, looking down upon this weak little boy who’s helplessly lying on this back, as defenseless as a newborn kitten. But as she stroked me, I felt a weird and unexpected feeling:

I felt powerful.

It’s strange to say this out loud, but it’s true. I felt like a manly man. I felt like a Real Man. Even though on the surface, I was the weak one and she was the strong one. She could easily snap me in half if she wanted to. Earlier, she demonstrated her superior strength with no ambiguity. There is no contest as to who is stronger. It’s her. No doubt about it. Yet, as odd as this sounds, I felt as powerful as I’d ever felt before in my entire life. There’s no logic to it. I just did.

From my perspective, I was a man receiving pleasure from a gorgeous woman. She was smiling as she was doing it. It looks like she was having fun as well. Inside, I felt like the one who was in charge. It was me who was controlling my own destiny. Even after I came, I still felt that way. For those few short moments, I was experiencing a heightened sort of pleasure that I rarely get to experience. Yet, on the surface it appears like she’s in total control. While that is technically true, that wasn’t true for me emotionally. On the inside, I felt a personal sense of empowerment that no one can understand except for me. And guess what? That’s good enough.

I didn’t treat her like an enemy. She was a friend. Not a literal friend, of course. But in that particular time and place, we were equals. I gave her pleasure. Then she gave me pleasure. This cooperative exchange felt right. It felt just. It was…sexy.

Sexy - Eiza Gonzalez

Eiza Gonzalez isn’t a female bodybuilder, but damn! She’s sexy. Or is it beautiful? She’s both, actually.

What is sexy? It’s simple: Sexy is that magical confluence when a singular human experience and mother nature collide in the most beautiful way imaginable. It’s more than just a pretty face or a killer body. It’s the emotions that come with it. It’s how we feel and how we grow as a human being as a result of experiencing those feelings.

Female bodybuilders have the unique ability to conjure up those emotions like very few other women can. Can a more “traditional” looking woman elicit those same feelings? Sure she can. Back in the day of my adolescent years, Famke Janssen, Monica Bellucci, Rena Mero, Trish Stratus, Sophie Marceau, Pamela Anderson, Halle Berry, and others did just that. But FBBs are like an addictive drug. We can’t get enough of them. We keep on returning to them. Whether we’ve liked FBBs for 30 years, 20 years, or 10 weeks, every single time we regard upon a new photo of a beautiful female bodybuilder proudly showing off her large muscles, it makes us feel jittery inside. It lights a fire in our souls. It’s a wonderful feeling, one that cannot be easily articulated. And in an unfathomable way, we don’t want to have to explain it. We embrace its mysteriousness.

That’s sexy.

Sexy Summer Short Story #4 – School’s Out

School's Out - Ginger Martin

When you think of Miss Richardson, think of Ginger Martin.

Packing up the things in her classroom, Nikki takes a moment to stop, inhale a deep breath, and sigh in relief. Those pesky kids are gone for three whole months. This time in September, she’s going to have a whole new crop of little monsters who will make her life a living hell.

But now is not the time to think about that.

Nikki Richardson is the PE/health teacher at Marianne Wadsworth Elementary School. She’s also an amateur bodybuilder who regularly competes in triathlons and strength competitions. She’s sort of a local celebrity, having appeared on ESPN and sports podcasts many times over the years. But at the end of the day, she’s a teacher through and through. Until summer vacation kicks off, of course.

Then she’s something else entirely.

She has a side job that she does throughout the year, but mostly during the summer months. It’s something she keeps on the downlow for obvious reasons.

She’s also a webcam performer.

As she starts up her car and proceeds to leave the school’s parking lot, Nikki remembers that she needs to run a few errands before returning home. She needs to stop by the local sex shop and purchase new crotchless lingerie. Her loyal clientele already knows what she owns and will expect to see something different, Nikki figures.

***

Derek recently heard a rumor that he could not believe.

Is Miss Richardson actually a porn star?

Derek’s best buddy, Marcus, texted him yesterday saying he made an epic discovery: As a side job, Miss Richardson – their former PE teacher from a long time ago – hosts a weekly webcam show where she answers questions from fans, gets undressed, and does…stuff.

What kind of stuff, exactly? Neither of them knows. But they’re curious to find out.

Marcus emailed Derek earlier this morning a link to an erotic cam website where amateur performers from across the globe host regular “performances” for a modest fee. They keep a portion of the proceeds, while the website hosts keep the other portion. There are thousands of performers on this forum, but only a small handful actually make a substantial income from it. Nikki Richardson isn’t one of them, but her “following” is large enough that she can make a nontrivial amount of dough to supplement her meager teacher’s salary.

According to the forum’s chat board, Miss Richardson’s next webcam appearance is scheduled for tonight at 9:00 p.m. sharp. Luckily for Derek, his roommates are planning to attend some boring art gallery opening, so he’ll have the house entirely to himself.

Growing up, all the boys loved Miss Richardson. She was gorgeous, tough, strong, and didn’t take shit from anybody. She also had a soft spot and a good sense of humor. She’d challenge anyone to a pull-up contest and always won easily. Always.

Nobody knew if she was married – rumors spread that she was a lesbian – or had any kids. Her life was an enigma, which is pretty typical of all teachers. But her unique combination of beauty and brawn made her especially intriguing to impressionable hormone-raging adolescent boys.

The time is now 6:40 p.m. A little more than two hours away from the start of the show.

Time to get something to eat!

***

“Hm, this looks pretty damn good on me,” Nikki says aloud to no one in particular. All alone in her bedroom, Nikki regards herself in a full-length mirror in her newly purchased lingerie. A ruby red satin number with sexy white frills lining the edges. Nikki can be very particular about her outfits. She is supremely satisfied with this one.

Nikki glances at her phone and sees it’s 8:30 p.m. She typically logs in to the streaming site 15 minutes before showtime (which is recommended) so that if any technical difficulties were to arise, customer service could fix them before her impatient audience decides to bail. That’s not an unusual occurrence. Unless you’re really popular, if you’re even five minutes late, people will assume you’re a no-show and go somewhere else. Even if you’ve paid the entry fee, the website gives you a 10-minute grace period to switch to a different performer if the one you originally wanted to see is absent.

As a teacher, Nikki hates unexcused absences.

School's Out - webcam

A typical webcam.

Boris, Nikki’s black Labrador, looks at his mommy with sad eyes. He wants to go out for his nightly walk around the neighborhood. But not yet.

“We’ll go for our walk later, sweetie. Sorry, but you have to go downstairs now.”

Miffed, Boris is led downstairs where he must live in exile for the next hour. He’s used to it by now, but that doesn’t mean he hates it any less.

***

8:58 p.m.

Derek has already paid his $25 for this 30-minute show (he doesn’t want to think about how much that is per minute). The screen is blank with the ominous words “The Show Will Begin Shortly. Thanks for Cumming” sprawled across. That pun couldn’t be more cringe-worthy.

A single drop of sweat rolls down his face. He just texted Marcus to let him know that he’s going to watch tonight’s performance. Marcus replied: “Me too bro. Looking forward to it!”

Memories of 6th grade start to flood back. Derek remembers trying to steal a peek at Miss Richardson’s enormous biceps during class. One boy claims he spied on her during lunchbreak and saw a glimpse of a tattoo on her broad back. He couldn’t verify this claim.

Growing up, Derek often fantasized about making love to her. He spent many nights jerking off to the thought of touching her muscles. He knows he’s not the only one who did that. Far from it.

It is now 9:00. Oh boy. Derek’s heart is pounding hard. His pulse is racing a million miles per hour. He might pass out if indeed Miss Richardson is the one who will be performing at this webcam show.

The blank screen starts to load. A familiar voice beckons.

“Good evening, boys.”

Oh shit!

Sure enough, from the comfort of her bedroom, Nikki Richardson appears wearing nothing but red underwear. Her chiseled pecs, sculpted arms, husky shoulders, and six-pack abdomen are all there for viewers to see. It’s been more than ten years since Derek last saw Miss Richardson. She still looks as gorgeous as ever, even with a few new wrinkles lining her face. Derek is almost surprised that Miss Richardson could ever get…old.

School's Out - red lingerie

Sexy red lingerie.

“Judging from the email addresses I’m seeing here, I’m guessing a few of my former students are watching this. So I’d like to say “hi” to Derek, Marcus, and Stephen. Hi boys! I miss you all!”

Derek falls backwards out of his chair and lands on his ass.

“What the fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck???”

Damn! She knows he’s watching her! How fucking humiliating…

“Don’t feel embarrassed,” she continues. “I won’t expose your last names or anything. I know all of you are adults now, so it’s fine.” She smirks with guilty pleasure.

Derek gets back in his chair and catches his breath. He’s surprised he didn’t suffer a heart attack. Or knock himself out cold when he fell to the floor.

Nikki starts by brushing her dark brown hair and talking about her summer plans. She doesn’t reference any boyfriend or husband, yet she seems to imply she’s travelling to Europe with somebody else. Her bedroom looks pretty standard, with a neat-looking Chinese lamp in the background. Derek could not stop staring at her large pecs sitting underneath her modest breasts. He fantasized for many years of what it would be like to fondle those breasts. This moment is the most surreal of his life.

The double striations going down her chest make a chill run down Derek’s spine. Then she stops chatting and unhooks her bra. Derek’s breathing stops. She drops it, revealing her flat yet enticing breasts. The very breasts that he’s thought about for years. Nikki’s nipples stick out nearly an inch – by Derek’s distant calculations – and look as hard as a rock. This moment was definitely worth the years of waiting.

“It’s way too hot in here. No AC. The windows in my room don’t open all the way,” Nikki observes. “It looks like I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands…”

She stands up, revealing her crotchless panties. Derek audibly gasps. Nikki rolls them down her hips and drops them to the floor. Nearly naked – with the exception of her cream-colored white high heels – Nikki knows she has her former students in the palm of her hand. And that they have something else entirely in the palm of their hands!

“This is a side of me you’ve never seen before but have always dreamed about, right boys?”

“Yes, Miss Richardson,” Derek replies, knowing she can’t hear him.

“Let me show you a side of me you definitely haven’t seen before!”

Nikki reaches down and lightly pinches her swollen clit. She rubs it between her index and middle fingers, going up and down as leisurely as she can. Derek can’t help it. He unzips his pants and takes out his hardened penis from his boxers. He begins to stroke it. He has no clue if Marcus or Stephen are doing the same thing, but he doesn’t really care. All that matters is seeing what Miss Richardson is capable of…

Damn!

“Oooohh, yes….Mmmmmm………..” Nikki moans.

Sitting down on her bed, Nikki then falls on her back and spreads her legs as widely as she can. By now she’s flat out jerking her clit as if it were a little cock, hungry for stimulation. Derek intensifies his own stroking. Nikki’s moans become shorter and are replaced by heavy breathing and animalistic groans. The viewers can almost literally feel the heat emanating from their computer screens. She’s about to come, as is Derek.

“Oh fuck!” Nikki screams.

Indeed, as if on cue, Nikki comes. Her thick legs – still spread apart – convulse wildly. Her entire bed shakes. Meanwhile, Derek reaches his climax and spurts hot semen all over his keyboard. Damn it! That better not cause it to malfunction…

Nikki’s spasms subside. Derek’s spasms keep on going. But eventually, it stops too.

Whew.

Nikki then takes out a large black dildo from an unseen bag and licks the tip with her tongue. Derek has yet to catch his breath when he realizes that the show isn’t over yet…it has just begun.

“Well, boys. What did you think about that? What do you think about this hefty toy of mine? Doesn’t it look…intimidating?”

Derek silently nods in agreement.

“If you want to know what I plan to do with this toy, you’ll have to wait until, ahem…next week,” she says. “I’ll see you all later. For now, enjoy the rest of your evening.” Nikki continues to lick the dildo up and down its realistically veiny shaft.

“School’s out!”

What is Your Female Muscle Holy Grail?

Gold Chalice In Altar With A Ray Of Divine Light

The Holy Grail: You have chosen wisely!

From King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table to Indiana Jones, everyone seems to want to get their hands on the Holy Grail. The journey to acquire such a coveted treasure is full of peril, challenging our heroes to face such dangers like bloodthirsty armies, treacherous terrain, nefarious double-crossers, and the dreaded Knights Who Say Ni.

The Holy Grail is famous for allegedly being the cup that Jesus drank from at the Last Supper. Joseph of Arimathea then used it to collect Christ’s blood at the Crucifixion. You don’t need to be very religious to know that this object – whether it actually existed or not – is an immeasurably valuable treasure. There’s no need to get into the etymological history of the term “Holy Grail” because it’s complicated, hotly debated, and ultimately boring.

In today’s parlance, we use the expression “Holy Grail” to describe any object or achievement that we consider to be most important to us. Examples include winning the Super Bowl, getting accepted into an Ivy League university, scoring a date with the hottest cheerleader in school, climbing to the top of Mount Everest, or meeting your favorite celebrity. Sometimes we achieve these goals. Most of the time we never even sniff the possibility of accidentally achieving these goals. Life goes on.

For female muscle fans, we have our own version of the Holy Grail. Hidden deep within our imaginations, we fantasize about certain things that we can only picture in our minds. Occasionally, we are fortunate enough to actually be able to live out these fantasies. But more often than not, they remain just that: fantasies. Situations we conjure up inside our brains that never come to pass.

But let’s not go down this dour path. Instead, let’s celebrate our female muscle fandom by sharing what our personal “Female Muscle Holy Grail” is. I shall start with a few suggestions from my own personal playbook:

Holy Grail - Denise Masino

Denise clearly isn’t shy about showing off her greatest physical asset.

  1. Giving Denise Masino cunnilingus

My love for Denise Masino should not be a surprise to anyone. She’s currently my favorite female bodybuilder of all time, mostly for reasons that have little to do with her actual record as a competitive bodybuilder. I wrote a blog post in which I expressed my love for Ms. Masino. I recommend you check it out when you have a spare moment.

Denise is famous (or is it infamous?) not just for her beauty, strength, charm, sexiness, confidence, muscularity, femininity, compassion, and spiritedness. She’s also renowned for what exists between her legs. Between her thick tree trunk legs, Denise boasts the most beautiful genitalia in the world. Think that’s a really bizarre thing to say? It is, but if you have an appreciation for the finer things in life, you’d understand.

For the record, Denise isn’t shy about showing off her most prized asset. In fact, she proudly displays it in most of the videos she produces for her website. She isn’t reticent about the fact she has a larger-than-normal clitoris, thick meaty labia, and a bright pink vagina that seemingly glistens at all times. She understands full well that there are plenty of guys and gals out there who adore her genitalia and can’t get enough of it. We crave it like it’s an addictive drug.

So this isn’t a weird thing to fantasize about. Nor do I think she’d be embarrassed to accidentally stumble upon this post and read about some random guy’s thoughts about it. Denise has made a steady income exploiting (or treating us to) her most famous physical trait. And I don’t judge her at all for it. If you got it, flaunt it. If you have a talent or asset that makes you money, by all means ride that donkey as far as you can. Thankfully for us, she does exactly that with a bright smile on her pretty face.

Being able to perform cunnilingus on Miss Masino would be a dream come true. Her clit is heavenly, one of the best in the world. It’s certainly one of the most famous in the world. Female muscle fans can dispute who possesses the “best” meat between her legs, but Denise should be on the top of everyone’s list – if such a list were to exist. If there ever comes a time when I can attain this Holy Grail of Female Muscle Fandom, I could die right then and there a happy man. I probably speak for many of you too.

Can you imagine spending hours feasting on Denise’s beautiful bits while listening to her passionate moans of orgasm? Music to our ears!

Holy Grail - Alina Popa

Queen Alina in prime form.

  1. Touching Alina Popa’s entire body

Queen Alina is the Undisputed Goddess of Female Bodybuilding. She may not necessarily be my personal favorite, but she doesn’t have to be. Alina is a special breed of woman. Her charm, beauty, impressive muscularity, femininity, and accomplishments (both on stage and off stage) are second to none. She’s incredible.

What makes her noteworthy, however, is her remarkable muscle control. She can bounce her pecs, biceps, quads, and glutes like no one else. Her ability to completely isolate her individual muscles and flex them for the leering camera is unprecedented. If there’s someone else who can match her in this arena, please let me know!

Therefore, I’d love to touch every single inch of Alina’s gorgeous body. I want to feel her bicep peaks. I want to cup her glutes and squeeze them. I want to rub her quads, hamstrings, and calves with baby oil and see them shine brightly. I’d love to lay down in bed with the Queen and spend all evening worshiping her muscles. I’d take my time. No need to rush things. No need to hurry. This worship session should take as long as it needs to.

Which, ideally, would be a very, very long time.

Her pretty face. Her massive chest. Her broad back. Her meaty thighs. I’d ask her to flex each individual muscle and marvel at her keen ability to make them dance. “Alina’s Dancing Glutes” may not sound like a punk band you’d like to see in concert, but they’re definitely a sacred piece of flesh that deserves to be appreciated with divine reverence.

Witnessing her muscle control in person would alone be worth the price of admission. To be able to place my fingers onto her flawless physique would make that a once-in-a-lifetime bargain deal. Oh boy.

Holy Grail - Karen Zaremba

You can wash your entire wardrobe on Karen Zaremba’s abs.

  1. Feeling Karen Zaremba’s abs

This Holy Grail fantasy is probably 10-15 years too late, but oh well. When my female muscle awakening began in 2005 (it actually started a few years before that, but this was when my interest in female bodybuilders skyrocketed), Karen Zaremba was one of the first women I discovered. I clearly remember the countless hours I spent sitting at my computer in my dorm room watching videos of Miss Zaremba strutting around in a bikini over and over again.

I made sure my roommate didn’t see what I was watching, of course. But I still managed to ensure my Karen Zaremba fandom remained prolific.

Other than her gorgeous face and heavenly bronzed physique, Karen is best known for her abdominal muscles. Wow! She didn’t have a six-pack. She had an eight-pack. Or a ten-pack. Or something like that. Yowza!

Karen was my first favorite FBB. Was it strange that she’s more than twenty years my senior? Probably, but that didn’t matter one iota. It is unusual for a teenage boy to be enamored with a woman in her 40s, but in the privacy of my own imagination, nothing is taboo. It was perfectly normal. As it should have been!

Miss Zaremba had abs that were the dictionary definition of “washboard.” You could clearly see the grooves between each individual muscle. You could pour a glass of water onto her stomach and the deep grooves of her abs would catch every drop of it.

I fantasized about being able to put my tongue in between those grooves and lick her abs to my heart’s delight. I still think about such things today, even though Karen has retired from bodybuilding and probably isn’t nearly as muscular anymore. Like I said earlier, this fantasy is a couple of decades too late, but never mind that. Karen will always remain a sentimental favorite of mine, no matter what she chooses to do with her life moving forward. I really like her and still do.

Holy Grail - Cindy Landolt

Cindy Landolt looking divine.

  1. Making love to Cindy Landolt all night long

Oh Cindy. Cindy, Cindy, Cindy. The Muscle Goddess of Zurich is probably the most Beautiful Female Bodybuilder of All Time. She’s the total package. She’s not as large as Alina or as outwardly erotic as Denise, but she’s impeccably sculpted and as gorgeous as a supermodel.

Cindy speaks fluent English with an accent, which is something that lots of American guys find irresistibly hot. I don’t care which corner of the world she’s from or what language she speaks. Cindy is a flawless woman who redefines beauty. She’s a perfect “gateway” FBB who combines traditional femininity with nontraditional muscle mass. She can have crossover appeal for both guys (and gals) who love female bodybuilders and those who are still “FBB-skeptics.”

She doesn’t “look like a man” or a “manly woman.” She looks as feminine as that cute cheerleader you had a crush on in high school. She could be on the cover of fashion magazines and you wouldn’t blink – if not for her large muscles, that is. I think she has universal appeal. I’m guessing there are plenty of folks out there who would agree with me on that.

I fantasize about spending an entire evening with Miss Landolt in a secluded cabin somewhere deep in the mountains. After a tasty meal and drinking an entire bottle of champagne, we light up the fireplace and watch the amber glow fill the room. We kiss. We whisper. We eventually undress. We walk to the bedroom hand-in-hand. We turn off all the lights, silence our phones, and ignore the outside world for the next twelve hours. Nothing matters except for the two of us.

Moonlight romantically streams through the window. Perhaps it’s snowing lightly. The sky is peaceful. It is quiet everywhere. We crack open the window and let the dual sensations of cold air and heat from the fireplace greet out naked bodies. We then make love all night long. We consummate our love in every way imaginable. Maybe we make love for an hour, maybe three hours, maybe literally all night long.

We make love in bed, in the shower, downstairs next to the fireplace, on the staircase, perhaps even outside. It may be chilly, but the heat from our joining bodies cancels out any discomfort that would cause. She showcases for me her stamina, sexual appetite, and sensual imagination. I indulge in everything she desires to do together. It’s a night to remember, one neither of us will ever forget.

It’s pure bliss.

Holy Grail - Deidre Pagnanelli

Deidre slaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaying!

  1. Stroking Deidre Pagnanelli’s gorgeous face

This is a fantasy that might also be a few years too late, but that’s totally irrelevant. What is relevant is the fact that Deidre is still one of the most beautiful women on the planet. I’ve probably said that about at least a half dozen other women, but this time I mean it.

Maybe.

Deidre is a 40-something mother of four children – yes, you read that right – who was one of the hottest fitness models of the 90s. Oh wait, she’s still one of the hottest fitness models out there. My mistake. Deidre looks like a supermodel and carries herself like one too. Even if she weren’t muscular, she’d still be world famous. And deservedly so.

She possesses an absolutely gorgeous face. Stunning. Jaw-dropping. Mesmerizing. Captivating. Enthralling. Intoxicating. Her natural beauty is incomprehensible. It’s difficult to imagine how someone could actually be that beautiful. But she is. She’s so beautiful you cannot help but stop dead in your tracks when you see her. To see her is to reject everything you previously thought about female beauty. It’s not too often that you observe a woman who is so gorgeous your brain struggles to process it.

“Did I just see that? Is Deidre Pagnanelli a real person? Or is she an animated avatar that existed in some guy’s imagination?”

Nope. She’s real. She’s damn real. And we’re all better off for it.

If I were to be blessed with having an intimate moment with Deidre, I would definitely want to do all the activities that have been described previously. That goes without saying. But if I had to choose a unique “holy grail” activity to do with her, it would be to stroke her face.

Her cheek. Her jawline. Her mouth. Her lips. Her nose. Her eyelashes. Her forehead. I’d touch it all, in an effort to appreciate her aesthetic beauty in the most tactile way possible. It’s one thing to see it, it’s quite another thing to experience it.

Her divine beauty deserves to be tangibly acknowledged. To feel her flawless face is to be one step closer to Heaven. I’m still on earth (technically), but I might as well be in the Afterlife. Even in her 40s (she may be approaching her 50s!), Deidre has not lost any of her beauty. She isn’t “fading.” In fact, she’s getting more beautiful as time goes on. She’s aging better than most people – male and female alike – are realistically able to. Even if her face contains a few wrinkles and crow’s feet, they just add depth to her beauty. They tell us that no matter how old she gets, Deidre deserves a special place in our hearts.

To see her is to stare into the face of God. At this point, I don’t know if there’s much of a difference.

***

Alright, what’s your Female Muscle Holy Grail? Let me know in the comments below or send me an email at ryantakahashi87 (at) yahoo (dot) com. I’d love to hear from you and get this conversation going!